Page 74 of The Young & the Sinner

Olivia

I drove home on Friday,excited for the weekend to start. Mostly because getting up every morning and going to school was more exhausting than before. It was tiring, putting on a mask in front of everyone, when some days, all I really wanted to do was stay in bed and pretend I didn’t exist, even for a small amount of time.

I parked the car in the garage and turned off the engine. Max wasn’t home yet, and something about going inside to an empty house didn’t appeal to me. I could call Mason, but he worked more than Max did. I had no doubt he would still be at his office. I only saw him once this week, and that was Monday when I went to his apartment for the first time.

We did text back and forth throughout the week, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him.

I missed him.

Deciding not to go inside, I pulled out my phone and texted Lizzie.

Me: Cake and coffee?

Lizzie: Yeah! Come pick me up

Me: At the dorm?

Lizzie: No, I’m at my parents’ house

I smiled and started the car again. I didn’t realize how much better it was to have a car. The freedom the car afforded me was something I loved more than anything else in the world.

It took me less than fifteen minutes to get to Lizzie’s house. Lizzie’s parents were well off, and they lived in a really nice neighborhood in a huge four-bedroom house. Her dad owned a restaurant nearby and her mom was a mechanical engineer. Lizzie and her little brother grew up not caring much about money, which had boggled my mind when we first met.

Her parents weren’t as well off as Max, that was for sure, but they had enough that Lizzie didn’t have to worry about getting a job or how she was going to pay for the absurd tuition at the University of Chicago.

But there was a downside to having such successful parents, especially when her parents had grown up with next to nothing.

They were super strict with her and her little brother.

While my mom didn’t much care when I came home, Lizzie had a nine o’clock curfew every night in high school. She was also expected to excel in school and pick a practical major to study in college. Becoming a starving playwright was not a future they had in mind for her, and that was why they were so against her aspiration to write for living.

I parked my car on the curb and texted Lizzie, telling her I was here. She texted back almost instantly with a thumbs-up emoji.

The front door opened two minutes later and Lizzie’s little brother, Henry, came out first wearing his favorite Spider-Man t-shirt.

Henry was an adorable eight-year-old who looked nothing like Lizzie, save for his eyes. He had dark auburn hair, tanned skin, and almond-shaped green eyes. I smiled and waved when he waved at me before sprinting to the car.

He climbed in the back. “Hi, Olivia.”

“Hi, Henry. I didn’t know you were coming along.”

“For cake and chocolate milk? I would not miss this.”

I laughed just as Lizzie came out the door, wearing a gray beanie on her head, her signature nonprescription black-framed glasses, a black t-shirt that read, “i hate the world, so be nice,” and a small handbag strapped to her shoulder. She climbed into the passenger seat and looked back at Henry.

“Put on your seatbelt, squirt.”

He rolled his eyes but did as she asked.

She grinned at me. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. All ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Henry dominated the majority of the conversation on the short ride. Lizzie and I shared amused smiles when he began his talk about Brianna, a girl in his class who was his best friend, but not his girlfriend. A fact he repeated several times. Lizzie nodded along, and I focused more on the road. I was still getting used to driving everywhere.

When we finally pulled up to Mary’s Cake Shop, Henry sat up and clapped his hand. “Hey, Olivia?”

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